Wasted
by mouserat
Summary: Emma Swan is a secret garden, her stone walls towering high. Killian Jones is an excellent climber, willing to accept any challenge. Captain Swan with a bit of Red Beauty.
1. Chapter 1

"Emma, come on! You've only done three shots, just one more wouldn't hurt!"

"Maybe not for me, but you're on your seventh, Ruby, and the aftermath of your drunk blackouts aren't fun for anybody," Emma gently scolded her friend with a slight smirk on her face, her eyebrows raised.

Ruby rolled her eyes, pupils so dilated from the alcohol she had consumed (shots were not the _only _thing she had been drinking) that the glittering emerald color of her eyes had been practically completely eclipsed.

"Whatever, Ems, if you're not going to drink with me, at least give me some advice," Ruby huffed, curling her fingers around David's scotch and soda, ripping it out of his calloused palms and chugging it down with one gulp. David scowled and opened his mouth, ready to lecture Ruby, until Mary Margaret gave him a sweet smile, resting one hand on his chest and raising the other that held a martini to his lips. David furrowed his eyebrows, still frustrated with the spunky (and clearly inebriated) thief beside him, but took a sip of his girlfriend's drink nonetheless.

Emma smiled at the pair. Emma didn't believe in soulmates, but Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan were the only exception to that rule. Together since freshman year of college, David and Mary Margaret were destined for a happy ending. They both proclaimed it was love at first sight, and after only a few months of unbearably sweet and awkward flirting, the two had become inseparable. They came in a package; if you wanted one, you had to have the other. With most couples, that would be unendurably obnoxious, but since David and Mary Margaret were two of Emma's best friends in the world, she was quite grateful that the two had found each other.

Due to their unwavering devotion to one another and their inborn leadership and responsibility, David and Mary Margaret were quickly defined as the parents of their little group. Though all five of them were the same age, they all filled different family roles. Ruby, of course, was currently demonstrating hers quite well – as the rebellious teenager without a care in the world.

Emma sighed and gave an exasperated look to Mary Margaret, who giggled and motioned for her to respond to the loud brunette.

"What do you need help with, Ruby?" Emma deadpanned, already expecting something ridiculous.

"I can't decide if I want pussy or dick tonight." Ruby tapped a well-manicured finger thoughtfully on her chin.

David spluttered as Emma rolled her eyes at his antics. Ruby didn't have a filter, and yet David was still surprised and horrified by almost everything she said.

"Have you tried flipping a coin?" a warm voice suggested next to Emma's ear.

"Graham!" Ruby screeched, clapping her hands with joy at the sight of the final member of their clan. "You can help me! These three are being so lame."

Emma, David, and Mary Margaret scowled and began protesting while Graham gave a hearty laugh.

"Okay, well let's see who we can sniff out in this dry-humping cage," Graham responded, leaning against the bar next to Ruby. Both of them had a knack for finding the perfect prey, and together they were unstoppable.

As their calculated eyes scanned the club, Ruby's nose practically twitching as if she was trying to smell her new morsel, Emma turned to Mary Margaret and David.

"How much longer are you guys planning on staying?" Emma inquired.

Mary Margaret shrugged nonchalantly. "Not too long, maybe an hour or so. I still need to finish my lesson plan for tomorrow."

"Mary Margaret Blanchard, you went out partying instead of doing your work? What have you become?" David teased, slinking his arm around her.

"Please, worst comes to worst I can show them a Disney movie," Mary Margaret said with a wave of her and a roll of her eyes. "Fourth graders are surprisingly attentive when you show them a film full of animated Dalmatians. Besides, I haven't seen Ruby get massively drunk and hit on well-dressed dancers in a while, this is a mandatory event."

As if on cue, Ruby gave Graham a high five and bounded into the crowd. Graham grinned and turned to the others, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Well, my work here is done. I'll see you guys later."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows. "You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, I've got this huge case I need to be working on and I already drank too much gin here than I was supposed to," Graham confessed, looking sheepish.

"Right, I'll see you at the office tomorrow," David responded. Graham, David, and Emma all worked together at the police station, although Graham and David collaborated together more often. Graham gave him a salute and walked off towards the door, quickly being swallowed by drunken bodies and becoming hidden from sight.

Emma leaned over the bar and eventually got the bartender's attention. "Can I have a scotch on the rocks with a twist?" she asked loudly over the bustle and noise.

"We're out at this bar, across the way they might have it," the bartender responded quickly before rushing back to fill people's orders.

Chesire was a somewhat classy club – in a way. All those who came there were in their mid to late twenties, all of them finished with college and either just beginning a successful career or rising to the top. Chesire had an unspoken dress code; men were clad in button down shirts and clean pants, while women wore dresses that were the perfect balance between classy and slutty. The club was large and nice – there were a few booths with leather couches, sophisticated dim lighting, and top-notch alcohol, which attracted many. However, although elegant, drunk and wild attendees always danced inappropriately in the club, sexual grinding and mindless hookups at every corner. The club was the perfect getaway for those who had reached a point in their life where they were expected to be professional, yet were able to unleash their untamed and exploratory side that had not yet diminished.

The club had two large bars on either side, the one closer to the door less crowded than the other. Emma left to make her way to the less crowded bar to ask for the drink the bartender suggested might be available there, waving off Mary Margaret and David and insisting that she could walk over herself and for them to have a nice time, and that she would text them later when she was ready to leave.

Emma slowly wove through the crowd, looking around the club innocently and admiring the beauty of the building (while, ironically, a couple was practically fucking a few feet away from her), when she vaguely felt someone watching her. She turned her head and met the eyes of a man lounging on a leather couch, surrounded by some clearly very drunk colleagues. He raised an eyebrow at her and his soft pink lips formed a smirk that caused Emma to feel something low in her stomach. Although he was all the way across the room, Emma could see the glimmering of his blue eyes and the mirth dancing in them, and all she wanted to do was join him on the couch and study the sea-blue color and abandon her quest for a drink. She realized she was probably staring like an idiot, and her hands tightened slightly on her black clutch. In a millisecond her brain finally cleared and she slowly curved her coral lips and returned the smirk, her eyes turning mysterious and alluring, almost daring him to act on an ambiguous challenge. Before she turned away she saw his curiosity pique and his eyes light up, as if his quest for a challenge had finally presented itself.

The sea of people had begun to slightly part in front of her and she continued to walk to the bar, dodging clumsy men who kept spilling their drinks while they were telling overexaggerated stories in an attempt to impress random women. She had almost reached her destination when she felt a hand softly touch her arm in a way that was clearly intended to get her attention instead of an accidental groping. She turned, only to meet eyes that were even bluer from up close.

"Hello," the man greeted with a grin, his British accent causing her heart to skip a beat. She gave him a small smile and nodded, restraining herself to run her thumb over his sharp jaw and feel the stubble on his face.

"Killian Jones," he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Emma shook it, his touch causing her fingertips to tingle. What was wrong with her? He was just some random guy at a club, he shouldn't be affecting her like this. Her hormones were probably heightened by the fact that she hadn't gotten laid in a while. That had to be it.

"So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked.

"A girl like me?" Emma's eyes flashed, annoyance rising rapidly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Killian didn't seem to be put off by the sharpness in her voice. In fact, he almost seemed to enjoy it.

"Well, I have a feeling you don't really have the patience for obnoxious and inebriated people who constantly block your destination," he replied knowingly, smirking once again and causing her to feel quite warm. She really needed to get laid.

"Well, when one of your best friends bribes you to party with her on a Sunday night, you get sort of used to it," Emma answered calmly. A drunken idiot suddenly rushed past them, pushing her shoulder and causing her to tumble slightly. She scowled at the perpetrator and added, "Reluctantly."

Killian laughed, tilting his head back and giving her quite a view of his delicious neck. Emma resisted the urge to attack it with her mouth as heat poured low in her belly. "Bribes? Interesting. And what sort of things have you done to cause your friend to bribe you in the first place?"

Emma gave him a teasing upturn of her lips. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Yes, in fact, I would," Killian grinned, sidling toward her ever so slightly. He turned his head and studied the couples around them who were moving to the beat. He turned back to her and inquired, "Would you like to dance?"

Emma straightened. She could have a little fun, right? What was the harm in that?

"No," she refused, although her eyes sparkled mischievously and the inflection of her voice dared him to stay.

Killian smiled once again, understanding her game. "Well then, can I buy you a drink?"

Emma thought for a moment and bit her lip. "Depends," she responded.

"On?" Killian asked, still giving her that sinful smirk that caused her heart to flip.

"If you can guess what kind of drink I want, then you can follow me to the bar and we can have nice conversation," Emma proposed. "If you're wrong, you go back to your group of… men," Emma said with slight disgust, looking over his shoulder and glancing at the drunken mess of people on the couch that Killian previously occupied. He chuckled at her reaction. "And you and I part ways, and we don't interact again." Emma raised her eyebrows. "What do you say?"

"Well, I do love a challenge," Killian countered. Emma gave a tilt of her head to prompt him to answer.

"You seem like one who has a specific drink depending on your mood," Killian analyzed.

Emma wasn't too impressed. She knew a lot of people who did that. But the next words that came out of her mouth caused her eyes to widen with shock.

"When you're feeling reckless and want to let go of your responsibilities for one night, you order numerous margaritas. Strawberry, most often," Killian continued, Emma's smile fading into a look of surprise at his accuracy. "Martinis, specifically with an olive, no onion, when work is stressing you out and you need a calming drink to accompany your paperwork. You like cocktails to loosen you up at casual parties and gin and tonic during business gatherings. White wine is your favorite overall, however, and you drink it most often when you're thoughtful. You can't stand rum. And tonight you're in a particularly good mood and in an upbeat environment so I'm guessing, scotch on the rocks –" Emma was just about to triumphantly pronounce that he was wrong when he finished his speech. "With a twist?"

Killian raised his eyebrows knowingly and with pride at Emma's shocked face as she stared at him in disbelief. She had just met this man, and he knew surprisingly much of her. Emma prided herself on being hard to read, not letting anyone in easily, but Killian had analyzed her in only a few short minutes.

"So?" Killian asked. "Do I get to buy you a drink?"

Emma stared at him a few minutes longer before she closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, still stunned. She looked behind her shoulder at the bar and began walking toward it, motioning Killian to follow her and he immediately joined her at her side, a smug look on his handsome face that Emma was tempted to slap right off.

* * *

"Okay, be honest," Emma demanded, licking her lips as she set her drink down. "How did you guess my drink? Were you near the bar when I ordered it or was it just a lucky guess?" Emma raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"Neither," Killian smirked. "You're an open book, love."

Nervousness fluttered in Emma's stomach as she avoided his gaze, focusing her attention on the liquid she was stirring. She was getting uneasy – Emma was uncomfortable with anything that involved intense emotional attachment. The only people she truly loved and cared for were her friends, and even they didn't know every single thing about her.

Feelings were not Emma's strong suit. Abandonment was too familiar, loyalty too rare. The idea of becoming vulnerable and relying on someone was something Emma constantly avoided, and she never took any chances.

Someone luckily guessing her drink was one thing, but the way Killian knew every last detail unnerved her. Was he stalking her or something? Had he been following her around?

She cleared her throat, suspicious. "So…" she began, finally meeting his blue, blue, blue, blue, holy crap so _blue_ eyes. "When did you move here from the UK?"

Killian smiled, taking a sip of rum. "A few weeks ago, actually. The company I work for offered for me to either stay or take a job in New York, and after living in London my whole life, I thought it would be nice to have a bit of a change. I have a few mates that live here and while I'm searching for a flat I'm staying with a couple of them."

"Mmm." Emma pursed her lips at the explanation. So he couldn't have been stalking her if he'd only just moved here. But still, the way he could read her caused a warning sign to flash in her mind. Emma's walls were tall and sturdy, made of bricks and stone and distrust. As time when on and her walls grew, the façade she created became so believable that no one doubted the performance she presented to the public. The idea that this stranger could see right through her made her brain shout at her to run, to concoct some half-hearted excuse of having to leave early and to give him a fake number if he dared to ask for one. But for some unexplained reason that left her utterly frustrated, the idea of departure from Killian's presence left an uncomfortable settling in her stomach. He was interesting, an enigma almost, and Emma was drawn to him like fireflies in the spring. Her addiction to uncovering mysteries triumphed over common sense, and she stayed right where she was, crossing one leg over the other and feeling a sense of satisfaction as she saw his gorgeous blue eyes flicker downward at the movement. His tongue sinfully ran across his bottom lip and Emma clenched her thighs together tightly.

"What about you, love?" Killian's voice was husky and smooth at the same time, if things like that were even possible. His eyes dragged slowly up her body, finally connecting his eyes with hers as he continued. "How long have you been in this wonderful city?"

"A while." Emma shrugged, taking another sip from her drink, somewhat smug at his perusal of her form. Who was she kidding, she looked hot. Her little black dress hit mid thigh, showing off her smooth legs and flaunted just enough cleavage to draw admirers in, but still keep them wondering.

Killian smirked and leaned forward. "I've noticed you're not very keen on talking about yourself, darling."

Emma returned his smirk and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "I thought I was an open book, _love_?" She teased, mimicking him on the last word.

Killian grinned, his teeth lighting up the dim club like small stars in an inky black sky.

"I see. Intriguing," he responded, clearly enjoying the banter that was transpiring between them. "And what draws you to this city, may I ask?"

Emma considered his question. "It's exciting and lively. It keeps me on my toes. I'm never bored, and I'm always transfixed by one thing or another wherever I turn."

"So it's distraction, then?"

Emma cocked her head, her heart rate speeding up. "And why would I need distracting?" She asked, hoping her anxiety wasn't revealing itself. Was she losing her touch? She had spent decades molding walls, but for some reason this one man, whom she'd only known for an hour, apparently had scaled the obstacle and was rooting through her emotions.

"You tell me," Killian answered casually, yet his tone didn't release any of the tension Emma felt. Emma didn't understand why she wasn't running away from this man. She was inexplicably drawn to him, his unpredictable behavior intoxicating.

Emma raised an eyebrow, trying to match his casual tone and seem nonchalant. "You're quite odd, you know that?"

"And yet you're still here," Killian pointed out with a smirk. God, he smirked a lot, but Emma had absolutely no objection to that.

Emma shook her head with a slight laugh. "And here I am," she said softly, playing with the rim of her glass.

"What do you do, love?" Killian asked, raising his small glass of rum to his lips. Emma gulped, trying not to stare at his mouth.

"What do I do?" Emma didn't understand his question.

Killian chuckled. "What's your occupation, darling?"

"I'm a criminal investigator," Emma answered, gaging his reaction.

"You seem drawn to danger," Killian observed, smiling and leaning back in his stool.

"Are you saying you're dangerous?" Emma teased, a grin threatening to break out on her face. She had to admit, she was quite enjoying the banter between them.

"No," Killian said, with a small upturn of his lips, but Emma caught self-deprecation flash in his eyes for a small moment.

Emma's upbringing had caused her to be very observant, and even the slightest change in one's expression could lead her to figuring out people's secrets. But although she caught the slight change in Killian's demeanor, even though it lasted for less than a second, she couldn't crack his code. Which was extremely irritating, as he seemed to figure her out in such a short time.

"You just seem to like an adrenaline rush," Killian continued. "Excitement intrigues you, it gives you a thrill."

Emma's lips turned upward ever so slightly. "And why would you say that?"

"Why else would you be a criminal investigator in New York City, one of the most unpredictable places in the world?" Killian raised a perfect eyebrow.

Emma smirked. God, she was doing a lot of that today. "You tell me," she said, shooting his words back at him for the second time that night.

Killian gave her a wide grin that reached his gorgeous eyes, the ones that she tried so hard not to be transfixed by (a mission that she was failing at miserably).

"I must say, I quite enjoy talking to you," Killian confessed, leaning toward her.

Emma's heart fluttered. "Good," she replied, biting the insides of her cheeks in order to stifle her smile.

Killian's grin caused her to feel a large lump in her throat, and the room suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She just needed to have sex, she convinced herself. That was the only reason why she was so flustered, she just hadn't been properly fucked in a while. She needed to fine someone who she could just sleep with and toss away, preferably right when the act was done.

Yet, here was a man right in front of her, a handsome, intriguing, beautiful enigma of a man, but she couldn't seem to stand the thought of becoming intimate with him. Not because he was repulsing, but entirely the opposite. He was not just some random, horny guy at a bar, which Emma would have preferred, but a person who seemed that even if he walked out of her door after sex, he wouldn't disappear. And Emma didn't like that.

But here she was. Drinking and flirting with Killian Jones.

She felt her phone vibrate in her clutch, her hand gently resting atop it. She fiddled inside and read a text from Mary Margaret.

_David and I are walking to the subway stop. Apparently Ruby found a couple of conquests, so we won't have to wait up._

Emma let out a small giggle. Of course Ruby wouldn't be departing with them. They always left for the club together, but Ruby would never came back with the group, and they usually wouldn't see her until the next morning.

Emma caught something in her peripheral vision and looked past Killian's shoulder to find Ruby trying to get her attention from across the room. Two attractive people, a man and a woman, were in front of her, leaving the club. Ruby pointed at the two, indicating that she would be going with them and then began to thrust her hips, clarifying to Emma what was about to transpire between the three of them.

Emma rolled her eyes with a smile on her face and slipped her phone into her bag.

"What?" Killian asked, enjoying her amusement.

"My friends are leaving and they're waiting for me," Emma answered, standing up and fixing her dress. "I gotta go."

"Wait," Killian jumped up from his stool. "Will I see you again?" he inquired, his accent almost causing her knees to shake.

Emma fought the urge to groan. _C'mon, get it together Swan. You're better than this._

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't know." She tried to sound as if it didn't matter either way. She secretly hoped she would never run into him again, because she was rattled and she didn't like being not being in control. But the thought of being around him once again didn't seem too revolting, which unnerved her.

"Well, do you come here often?" Killian asked, his lips curving, entertained by her answer.

"I come here when I feel like it," Emma stated.

"Hm," Killian responded, the smile still on his face. Any other guy would be put off by her attitude, but he seemed to enjoy her mystery.

She raised her eyebrows fractionally and gave pursed her lips in an gesture that insinuated a goodbye, and turned on her heels. A few steps later, she heard his voice once again.

"You never told me your name," Killian called from the bar.

Emma smirked, her stomach flipping. "And where would be the fun in that?"

She turned around again, resuming her trek to the doorway, but not before she caught his eyes spark with delight.

* * *

"Hey," Mary Margaret greeted, her arm linked through David's. "You okay? We couldn't find you for a while."

Emma waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."

"Were you just sitting at the bar alone?" David inquired suspiciously.

"No," Emma rebuffed, swallowing and attempting to seem casual. "I was talking to someone."

Mary Margaret's expression turned joyous and she sent her a look that read '_you better give me all the details later._' David, however, narrowed his eyes.

"Whom were you talking to?" He demanded. Emma rolled her eyes, both at his unnecessary protectiveness and his absurd need for precise grammar.

"David, stop," Emma scoffed, slipping her arm through David's. "It was hardly anything special."

The thing was, Emma didn't know if she was lying.

"Let's just go back to your apartment. I'm starving and those brownies Mary Margaret made are calling me." Emma switched topics, the three of them walking down the subway stairs, linked together.

As the three of them laughed and joked on the rumbling subway, Emma couldn't help her mind drift to the mysterious and alluring Killian Jones, and for some reason, she didn't mind at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma sighed happily as she slipped on her fluffy pastel blue robe once she escaped the fog-like steam swirling in the bathroom. Her hair smelled like lilacs from her cleansing shampoo, accompanied with the soft fragrance of vanilla due to her conditioner. As she began to blow dry her dripping wet hair, her thoughts couldn't help but drift back to last weekend.

After she departed from David and Mary Margaret's apartment, her stomach content and filled with Mary Margaret's homemade chocolate brownies, exhaustion had overcome her like a sharp gust of wind, and the five minute trek to her own apartment seemed like a marathon. She had fought to keep her eyes open, her lids constantly betraying her as she almost fell asleep in the shower. However, once she collapsed on her soft and unbelievably soothing bed, she was wide awake.

All she could see was blue. The way his eyes seemed to light up the whole club, glimmering in the darkness. The spark she felt run through her body whenever he leaned the slightest inch toward her, his toned arms resting against the bar. She had tossed and turned all night, his brilliant accent reverberating throughout her brain, the phrase _'you're an open book, love' _pounding in her ears in time with her heartbeat.

She had barely gotten any sleep, which frustrated her to no end – why was she so focused on this guy? They talked for an hour, hour and a half tops. There was no reason for her to be so engrossed in him, so preoccupied with how low his shirt was buttoned, giving her a delicious view of his toned chest; no reason for her to be consumed with his charming smirk, or enchanted by his raven black hair and how soft it looked, how nice it would feel under her fingertips…

Emma shook her head, trying to dispose of her reverie. Of course, nothing changed. Killian was still locked in her brain, the memory of their interaction running on a loop in her mind.

However, although she had barely slept through the night, she had woken up fresh and content as if she had experienced an eight hour slumber. That morning went on as usual, her hopping in the hot shower, getting ready for work, brewing her morning coffee, and, of course, listening to Ruby as she barged in to Emma's apartment and began to rant about whatever it was that happened to her over the past few hours ("honestly, Emma, threesomes are so boring. I left after like five minutes because it was so awkward. I've realized I am a monogamous girl, and have been scarred for life. Ah well, at least I had the experience, right?"). The rest of the week went on as usual, Killian eventually disappearing from her mind – well, not entirely, but he didn't occupy her the way he had earlier.

Of course, that didn't last long.

Today was Saturday, which meant she got off early from work (as long as another idiot didn't decide to rob a bank again or kill their spouse) and could peacefully enjoy the rest of her day. But of course, being Emma Swan, she didn't get her relaxation.

"Ruby, come on!" Emma shouted as she rooted through her bag, trying to find her metro card. "I'd like to get these errands done as quickly as possible, and I'm leaving without you if you don't get over here in the next three seconds," she threatened.

Ruby finally bounded to Emma's side. "Calm down, Emma, we have all day. Can you take out the stick that's shoved up your ass?"

Emma rolled her eyes at Ruby's vulgar vocabulary. "There is nothing 'up my ass', Ruby. I just want to get all of this crap over with so I can finally have a quiet night to myself."

Ruby scoffed. "Please, Emma. Knowing your life, some obnoxious teenager who smoked way too much weed is going to commit some idiotic misdemeanor and you're going to have to spend all night cleaning it up."

"Don't jinx it," Emma demanded, Ruby laughing in response. "C'mon. First stop – the library."

"Why the library?" Ruby inquired, crinkling her nose cutely.

"We're doing a big case on this psychopath who keeps breaking into people's apartments and strangling all the occupants to death. They don't take anything from their homes, they just kill them quietly and disappear," Emma began to explain.

"Wait, aren't there two guys doing that? One in the Bronx and one in Queens?" Ruby asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Yeah, we think they're probably partners and that they're trying to take down one borough at a time. David and Graham are dealing with Queens, Mulan and I are investigating the Bronx," Emma answered. "Anyway, Mulan wants to go through every scrap of past criminal evidence and murder cases, and when I say she wants everything, she wants _everything. _Even though we have all this high-tech stuff, we can never be too careful. So, the public library," Emma shrugged.

Ruby laughed at Emma's coworker's ridiculous request. "Mulan's insane."

"She may be anal, but without her we wouldn't have found half of the assholes in this city," Emma pointed out.

"True," Ruby agreed, hopping down the stairs. The amount of energy that girl had boggled Emma's mind. "Besides, there's an awesome donut shop across the street, and I'm craving a jelly-filled donut with powdered sugar." Ruby licked her lips at the thought, causing Emma to grin at her friend's carefree attitude.

The library was a quaint and sweet little place. Limited space caused the books to be squished tightly together, making it difficult to even pull a book off the shelf, but the institution was so organized that one would find the exact right book they were looking for so as not to cause the dilemma of shoving it back into the tight crevices. The library smelled of old books (of course) and roses, a relaxing combination that made Emma want to sink into one of the fluffy armchairs that decorated the place and drift off into slumber. Unfortunately, she had a mission to complete, so that desire couldn't be fulfilled at the moment.

Emma carefully searched the library, examining worn spines and squinting at the titles. Luckily she found the section she was looking for and became immersed in the collection, scanning her eyes for anything that seemed helpful.

"Wow, I really like this place," Ruby murmured distractedly, stroking her fingers over the worn spines. "It's cute. Kind of a nice break from the club scene."

Emma cocked an eyebrow, a small smirk spreading across her features as she continued her search. "I thought EDM, expensive alcohol, and sweaty hookups were your forte," Emma commented.

"Yeah, that's fun and all," Ruby mumbled, still focused on her surroundings. "But I don't know… it gets kind of tiring sometimes."

Emma abandoned her perusal to curiously look at her friend. She'd never heard Ruby confess anything like this before. "What do you mean?"

Ruby sighed, still thumbing at the shelves. "Don't get me wrong, I like going to clubs. I like partying. Being wild is pretty exhilarating, you know? But sometimes I wish I could just relax."

"You can do that, Ruby. You don't have to go out all the time," Emma replied softly.

"I feel like I do," Ruby confessed. "When I'm alone with my thoughts I get uncomfortable and restless. Thinking too much makes me sad," Ruby whispered. Emma's heartbeat quickened. She never knew her friend felt that way. She never knew Ruby felt the exact same way she did.

"I guess I go out to party and stay up late so I'm distracted." Ruby swallowed.

A familiar voice echoed in the back of Emma's brain. _So it's a distraction, then?_

Emma was just about to open her mouth to comfort her friend when a kind voice interrupted the two.

"Do you need help finding anything?"

Ruby and Emma turned toward the speaker only to be met with gorgeous, sparkling, sky-blue eyes. The woman was beautiful – a sweet smile on her soft pink lips, long lashes, and shining auburn curls that brushed against her cheeks. Ruby's green eyes widened at the figure in front of her, a sharp blush spreading across her face. Emma bit her lip to stop from smiling at Ruby's reaction, stifling a giggle.

"Um – uh… we –" Ruby fumbled for words.

Emma jumped into the conversation to save her. "I'm looking for something that is basically a record of criminals and their crimes. Specifically murderers and their intent," Emma answered. "I'm not a psycho, I swear. I work for the NYPD," Emma reassured the girl, holding up her hands.

The woman let out a tinkling laugh. "Don't worry, I get some pretty weird requests around here," she assured Emma. She then looked up at the shelf in front of them, furrowing her perfectly sculpted eyebrows as she searched for Emma's specific order.

"One moment." The woman held up a finger and rushed away from them, seeming to be on her way to fetch something.

Emma smirked at Ruby and folded her arms, the brunette gazing longingly at the girl's retreating figure.

Ruby sensed Emma's gaze. "What?" She asked defensively.

Emma raised an eyebrow, still amused. Ruby turned red, her blush flaring up once again. "What?" She repeated angrily.

"Someone has a crush," Emma noted in a sing-song voice, mimicking Ruby's teasing tone whenever she saw Emma talking to a guy.

"I do not!" Ruby refused defensively.

"Please!" Emma scoffed. "You were staring at her like David did when he saw Mary Margaret on their first date."

"How do you know how David looked at Mary Margaret on their first date?" Ruby asked suspiciously, her hands going to her hips.

"Because you were so protective over Mary Margaret that you dragged me to spy on them with you in the restaurant," Emma reminded her with a glare, her mind flashing back to that excruciating night and having to take Ruby's phone so the nosy brunette would stop snapping pictures. "Now stop trying to change the subject!" Emma demanded, folding her arms across her chest, knowing how Ruby always tried to distract people when she didn't want to talk about something.

Ruby opened her mouth to retort when both girls heard the sound of wheels against worn wood, the attractive librarian returning with a long ladder that was connected to the shelves.

"Shh, shh, shut up!" Ruby whisper-yelled at Emma. Emma rolled her eyes at her friend's overdramatic antics.

"I'm pretty sure what you're looking for is up here," the woman said, rolling the ladder to the two of them. She began to climb, practically reaching the very top. Ruby cheeks colored once again as she looked away quickly.

"Is Ruby Lucas actually not grasping the chance to check out someone's ass?" Emma whispered teasingly in her friend's ear. Ruby shot her friend a glare, her face as bright as a tomato.

"Shut up," she snarled, and before Emma could laugh the librarian let out a triumphant "here it is!" and scrambled down the ladder and jumped off the last few steps, her green flats softly landing on the floor.

"This one has pretty much everything you need," she explained, holding out a thick book. "Different perpetrators are organized by their felonies and ordered in the severity of the crimes. It has notes on mental illnesses and personal backgrounds if that helps, but if you're looking for more specific readings on criminal intent, there's more over in the psychology section."

Emma shot her a thankful grin. "Thank you so much, that would have taken me forever to find."

"No problem." She gave Emma a warm smile. "Do you need help finding what you're looking for in the psychology section?"

Emma glanced quickly at Ruby, a mischievous plan forming in her head. "Actually, I'm fine. Maybe you could help out my friend?" Emma suggested.

Ruby's eyes widened as she sent Emma a horrified glare, causing the blonde to snicker.

"Sure!" The librarian grinned and turned to Ruby. Ruby blinked, shell-shocked and nervous. Emma quickly departed from the two, rushing toward the psychology area before Ruby could make an excuse to call her back.

_Karma's a bitch, Rubes, _Emma thought triumphantly. Ruby was infamous for shoving Emma at random guys, most of them leaving Emma bored, annoyed, and uncomfortable. The conversations were usually quite tiring, pretty sexist, and unbearably obnoxious. Maybe now Ruby would learn her lesson, even though the situation was hardly fair, as Emma was leading Ruby toward a pretty and sweet girl while Ruby constantly introduced her to horny assholes.

Twenty minutes later, Emma was slightly regretting her choice to leave the nice librarian with Ruby. Although the library was incredibly organized and had wonderful material, Emma couldn't find exactly what she was looking for, and if she couldn't find the perfect reference for this case, Mulan would flip.

Finally, Emma saw a book that's title summarized what she was looking for in a few words. However, it was just out of her reach, and the ladder was near Ruby and the librarian, and Emma didn't want to interrupt.

She bit her lip and stood on the very tips of her toes, jumping up slightly in a pathetic attempt to retrieve the book. She stretched her arm as far as she could, her muscles straining painfully. Emma furrowed her brows in determination, her stubbornness getting the better of her.

She took a deep breath and stepped a few feet back. She rushed forward and leapt toward the book, and instead of being successful she slammed headfirst into the shelf, stumbling backwards. She huffed, scowling, and furiously rubbed at her aching forehead. She felt eyes on her, and scanned the room quickly to see other customers gazing at her oddly. Emma flashed them a quick, embarrassed smile and swiveled toward the book once again, never one to back down from a challenge.

Just as she was considering taking out a bunch of novels and stacking them up as a step stool, a young, childish voice interrupted her.

"Do you want me to get that for you?"

She snapped her head around and faced an attractive man with a warm smile on his face and a small boy next to him gripping a few books in his tiny hands.

Emma grinned at the young child. "That's very sweet of you to offer," Emma responded, her heart almost melting at his big chocolate brown eyes.

The young boy carefully set his books down beside his feet and lifted up his arms toward the grown man standing next to him.

"Daddy?" he asked his father. "Can you help me?"

"Of course, Roland," the man grinned at his son, sending Emma a wink. He picked up his son, resting him so Roland was perched on his shoulders. Emma informed them which book she needed, and the two of them maneuvered around, Roland's greedy little hands eventually grasping the old spine.

"Here you go!" He chirped, holding out the book to her with a proud smile on his face.

Emma beamed. "Why thank you, you're such a gentleman."

Roland blushed as his father set him back on the ground, shooting Emma a smile.

"We saw you struggling and Roland told me that if we didn't help you, you might hurt yourself," Robin informed her in a teasing tone, a friendly look on his face.

If any other stranger had said that to her, Emma would snap at them and storm off, but the two of them warmed her heart.

"Too late," Emma noted, softly touching her tender forehead and wincing at the contact.

Robin chuckled. "Don't worry. I quite admire your vigor and determination," he complimented her. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Robin. Robin Locksley."

Emma gave him a small smile and shook his hand. "I'm Emma. Emma Swan."

"It's nice to meet you, Emma Swan," Robin grinned at her. "I'm sorry that the two of us can't stay longer and chat, but Roland here wants to go home and read his books straight away." Robin gazed fondly down at his son.

Roland gave Emma large grin that almost caused her to "aww" out loud. "Two of them are about dragons!" He exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

Emma laughed. "Those are my favorite kind of stories," she replied.

"Me too!" Roland's eyes widened happily, and Robin let out a large and warm chuckle.

"Well, we best be going," Robin said, his son reaching for his hand. "Have a great day, Emma Swan. Try not to hurt yourself," he joked with a wink.

"I'll do my best," she promised with a smile. "Have fun with your books."

"We will!" Roland called back to her, dragging his father toward the front desk to check out his books.

A warm feeling settled in Emma's stomach at the sight of the duo, along with a tinge of sadness. A happy family, something she could never relate too, the reminder burning a hole in her heart.

In her peripheral vision, Emma spotted the librarian waving goodbye to Ruby as she followed Robin and Roland to check out their books for them. Anxious to distract herself from her depressing thoughts, she walked over to an elated Ruby.

"Hey," Emma said. "How'd it go?"

"Way to ditch me," Ruby replied, refusing to answer Emma's question, though her joyful expression never wavered.

"You should be thanking me," Emma shot back. "You're smitten, I was just helping you out."

"I am not!" Ruby retorted. Emma raised an eyebrow with a smirk. Ruby rolled her eyes and grinned. "Okay, I totally am," she relented with a giggle. "Her name's Belle and she moved here a few years ago from Australia. She's super nice and smart and loves traveling and I could just talk to her for hours," Ruby ranted, a dreamy look on her face.

Emma laughed slightly at her friend's adoration. She hadn't seen Ruby like this in a long time.

"I asked her out to Chesire tonight," Ruby beamed.

Emma furrowed her eyebrows. "Tonight?"

"Yeah, and you're coming."

"Ruby –"

"No, you're coming," Ruby ordered. "I need you there for support. Besides, you owe me."

"For what?" Emma asked, bewildered.

"I'll think of something later," Ruby casually dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Besides, you might see that hot guy again." Ruby wiggled her eyebrows. Shock flashed across Emma's face and Ruby nodded smugly. "That's right, I saw you talking and drinking with him. I don't know why you didn't tap that, Emma, I would have eaten him up the second I laid eyes on him."

Emma blushed, scowling at Ruby. "Fine," she snapped. "I'll go with you." Truthfully Emma was only agreeing so she could see how this whole Ruby/Belle thing would play out. It wasn't because she might see Killian or anything. No way. Why would she even care about that? She barely even knew him.

Emma's eyes flicked over to Belle, who was cheerily chatting to some customers. "How'd you get her to agree to go to a club, anyway?" Emma inquired, slightly confused. "Not trying to jump to conclusions or anything, but she doesn't seem like the type."

"She's not, really," Ruby replied, smiling at Belle as the librarian scanned a few books. "We made a deal. I told her I didn't read much, and she said that if I checked out this book then she would come with me tonight," Ruby grinned, holding up a paperback novel.

Emma squinted at the title. "_Sense and Sensibility,_" she read.

Ruby shrugged noncommittally. "It's supposed to be a classic or whatever," she reported. "Anyway, she's going to go to Chesire with us, I'm gonna read this book, and we're all gonna have a good time." Ruby winked.

Emma shook her head and smiled. "You're really going to read that?" Ruby didn't really seem like the literature type. The only thing she really studied were the wine menus at fancy restaurants.

"Hell yeah!" Ruby responded. "I wanna see this girl again. Now let's go, we have to pick out an outfit for you tonight." Ruby dragged Emma toward the front desk while Emma let out an audible groan. There went her peaceful night on the couch eating leftover pasta and watching _Lethal Weapon. _She never got a break.

* * *

"Um, wow," Belle gulped. The bookworm's eyes flicked around the club, looking slightly shell-shocked. Emma felt a rush of sympathy for the girl. Chesire could be pretty intimidating, especially on the first visit. Emma remembered when she first entered the club and was instantly thrust into a sea of sweaty messes and being thrown around, feeling as though she was in a pinball machine. Eventually, one gets used to the attitude and feel of clubs, being able to smartly maneuver around flailing limbs and splashes of alcohol.

Emma turned to Belle and gave her a warm smile. "Don't worry, it's a bit in-your-face. But once you get used to it, it's pretty fun, promise," Emma reassured the brunette beauty, hoping she was providing at least a little comfort to the nervous girl.

Belle shot her a grateful smile, her gorgeous light blue eyes sparkling through the dim atmosphere, and with a clench of her stomach Emma was reminded of another whose eyes glimmered just like, if not more than, Belle's gorgeous gems.

"Thanks," Belle sighed with relief. "I've never really been into this kind of stuff, it's all pretty new to me. But I've always wanted to experience as much as I can. You never know what's going to change your whole life," Belle shrugged, happiness spread across her beautiful features. "I want to soak up as much as I can and get out of my comfort zone. You know, be brave and adventurous."

Emma's heart clenched slightly, and a wave of admiration for the girl swept over her. Adventure. Emma had always tried to convince herself that she wanted a peaceful life, to be calm and content without trouble always barging through the door, no matter how fiercely she locked it.

But Emma wasn't the type of person who could deny a thrilling and challenging journey, and though she tried to convince herself what she really wanted was a normal life, she wouldn't be satisfied with regular and mundane existence.

Did Emma want to be able to relax and have simple, joyful moments? Of course. But the idea of not chasing the thrill, not undergoing a tremendous escapade put quite a damper on her mood.

Emma tried not to deny herself of the pleasures of a regular life, and although she strived for it, she would never achieve that goal. She would never be the girl with a perfect family, without any scars that marred her heart or memories that haunted her in her sleep. She would always be the broken girl, the last choice, the unimportant, ignored, useless woman. Emma needed adventure, she needed something to stimulate herself and be distracted from all the pain that resonated in her bones. Emma ached for exhilaration, for without it, she would be more alone than she already was and forced to confront her horrid emotions.

Belle's joy, her aim to experience life in every way possible in order to grow and flourish as a human being inspired Emma and caused a tinge of jealousy and longing to spark in her veins. Emma desired to have that mindset, to want to fall in love with the world and all its mysteries, and deep down, she knew she did – but it was stifled and clouded over with the need to escape and run, to hide and bury herself deep. And running away and exploring the planet were two very different things. She held herself back and denied herself the pleasure of enjoying herself because over the years, Emma realized she never deserved to be happy.

That's why Emma craved for the feeling of Belle's innocence and optimism, her hope and faith. The girl reminded her of Mary Margaret that way, and it reminded Emma how utterly lost she was compared to the two of them.

Before Emma got too deep in her mind, Ruby appeared next to the two of them, and Emma sighed thankfully. Emma aimed to steer clear of her emotions, but moments like this occasionally got the best of her.

"Hey, guys, let's dance!" Ruby grinned with excitement, practically bouncing up and down on her heels.

Belle let out a nervous laugh. "Oh, I don't know…"

"I thought you said you wanted to get out of your comfort zone?" Emma reminded the girl.

"A deal's a deal," Ruby added triumphantly.

Belle bit her coral colored lip. "I haven't danced in a very long time, I'm probably not very good –"

"Well let's find out!" Ruby exclaimed, grabbing Belle's soft, petite hand and leading her to the mass of people crowding the dance floor. Emma followed eagerly.

It turned out that Belle wasn't half bad. In fact, she was quite impressive, her body moving with ease and her luscious curves wove enticingly to the beat. The lights shone off her perfect skin and her teeth sparkled, her smile wide, joyous, and contagious. Happiness bubbled up inside Emma's stomach, laughter leaving her throat as she moved to the music. It had been a long time since she let loose and allowed herself to be free of worries. Usually Emma was always practically glued to the bar – well, basically anywhere that _wasn't _the dance floor – and sipped on a few drinks while chatting to David, Mary Margaret, Graham, or Ruby. She was adamant on not joining the mass amount of people whirling around each other unless she absolutely had too, since the only experience she had with dancing in clubs was having her ass grabbed by disgusting "men" (they were more like adolescents with the way they acted) and getting her expensive drinks knocked out of her hand.

But Belle's comments had gotten to her and brought back memories of when Emma was younger and more carefree – which, after jumping from one group hone to the other, diminished quickly. Emma didn't know when this specific sense of adrenaline would kick in again, so she decided to relish in her current happiness and sway her hips to the beat.

Belle's skirt twirled around her thighs and she let out a tinkling giggle as she threw her head back, her brunette curls swinging around her shoulders. Her smile was bright enough to irradiate the whole room and the sweet innocence she possessed warmed Emma to the tips of her toes. It had been so long since Emma felt truly lighthearted, and being in the presence of her high-spirited best friend and a tangible form of kindness caused Emma to feel as if a weight was being lifted off her shoulders.

Emma lost track of how long she was on that dance floor, but eventually her feet began to ache in her black heels and she was getting extremely thirsty.

"Hey!" Emma yelled to Ruby and Belle over the music, which proved extremely difficult. "I'm going to get a drink!" Emma pointed at the bar on her right, hoping that the two girls got the message.

Ruby gave her a thumbs up, letting her know she understood, and Belle nodded her head vigorously before mouthing, "me too".

The three of them weaved in between bodies and finally made it to the bar, which, like the last time Emma had been there, was not very crowded compared to the other one across the way. Belle ordered their drinks for them and Ruby paid, much to Belle's chagrin (Ruby only paid for Belle's drink and her own – Emma had to fork over her own cash for her white wine. If it wasn't for Emma, Ruby and Belle wouldn't even _be _here, but whatever). The three of them talked for quite a while, sharing stories, trading jokes, and emitting loud, raucous laughter from each other for what seemed like hours. Emma had warmed up to Belle very quickly – she was incredibly smart, sweet, interesting, and knew some pretty cool magic tricks.

Ruby chugged down the last of her beer and slammed the glass on the table, throwing her arms up in triumph.

"Twenty-six seconds!" Belle cheered, hitting the end button on her phone timer.

"You improved by two seconds," Emma congratulated her friend, who was grinning proudly.

"Told you I could do it!" Ruby boasted. "Now, who's ready to get back to dancing, hm?" Ruby wiggled her eyebrows at the two of them.

"Me!" Belle giggled, raising her hand jokingly and jumping off the barstool to Ruby's side.

The two girls looked at Emma expectantly, waiting for her to join them. "My feet still kind of hurt," Emma lied. "I'll meet you out there later."

Ruby opened her mouth to protest but then caught the small wink Emma gave her once Belle turned away. Ruby's eyes widened in understanding as she caught on to Emma's gesture and she shot Emma a thankful smile as the two of them the pranced back into the sea of people on the dance floor.

Emma smiled softly and took a small sip of her white wine, which was only halfway finished. Before she could even put down the glass, however, a familiar voice that absolutely _was not _stuck in her head like a broken record since last Sunday graced her ears.

"Thoughtful tonight, darling?"

Emma tried desperately not to choke on the liquid trickling down her throat and failed spectacularly, attempting to stifle her wracking coughs. She swiveled around, her green eyes blinking up at none other than Killian Jones and his unforgettable smirk, and her heartbeat began a loud and quick staccato against her chest.

Emma desperately did her best to compose herself and seem unfazed. "Killian Jones," she greeted, hoping she sounded casual. Killian grinned and gestured toward the seat beside her.

"May I?" He asked, his blue eyes twinkling.

Emma shrugged noncommittally and looked away, sipping her wine and wishing that she didn't look as flustered as she felt. "If you want."

She saw Killian flash a pearly white smile at her as he settled on the stool, resting his drink down on the bar.

"Rum, again?" Emma inquired, raising an eyebrow at his liquor of choice.

"Ah, so you've memorized my drinks as well, huh, love?" Killian beamed proudly at her, causing her cheeks to heat up.

"I merely noticed that you have horrible taste in booze," Emma defended herself.

"Rum is the antidote for all of life's troubles, lass," Killian informed her, bringing the alcohol to his enticing red lips.

"Oh, yeah?" Emma scoffed and he nodded his head, setting his drink down. "Give me an example," Emma challenged.

"Well," Killian pretended to think for a moment. "Say you meet this beautiful woman at a club," Killian began.

"Mm hm," Emma nodded, resting her chin on her palm and trying to hold back a knowing smile.

"And she happens to mention that she doesn't like rum, which, let's be honest, is completely ridiculous," Killian continued, not fazed when Emma rolled her eyes at his statement.

"So you have to stay with her and find out what other absurd thoughts she has in her brain, because really, testing her patience in order to see if she is just as short-tempered as most Americans are is just too intriguing," he finished. Emma vaguely realized they were both leaning very close to one another, but she dismissed it quickly.

"So I'm just part of some social experiment?" Emma guessed jokingly.

"Only if you want to be." Killian winked at her.

Emma flushed, unaware of how to respond. Who was she becoming? Emma prided herself in being cool, calm, and collected, never revealing her emotions and always having the upper hand, but here she was, fawning over a man whom she barely knew making her speechless and weak in the knees. She should be running far, far away, because Emma Swan is a keen observer, and she knows that if she keeps sitting at this bar, keeps drinking her wine, keeps looking into Killian's eyes, keeps imagining bringing his bottom lip in between her teeth, that she will fall into a deep trap that she might not escape. Emma needs to get off the barstool and run.

But instead she does something completely different.

"Do you know any magic?" She asks.

A puzzling expression crosses Killian's features, and Emma feels like punching herself in the face. _Nice move, Swan, _she thought. _Very eloquent._

"Because I recently learned a few tricks from a friend, and I have a proposition to make," Emma bartered, hastily trying to regain composure and appear coy and enigmatic.

Killian's grin reached his striking blue eyes, his smile giving her butterflies like a pathetic teenager. "Oh? And what is this bargain, may I ask?"

Emma smiled smugly, enjoying herself. It had been a very long time since she felt powerful, beautiful, and intriguing, and the look in Killian's eyes as he watched her every movement made her feel like an absolute goddess. She hadn't felt treasured by anyone, ever, and this man was making her view herself as important. She barely knew Killian; this was literally their second meeting, and it wasn't even planned. The emotions that were whirling through her were much too serious and much too intense with what Emma was normally comfortable with (and Emma's 'comfort zone' was considered minuscule compared to many others'). She should run away.

Instead, she leaned over the bar and snatched a small, clean white plate.

Emma spotted Belle's drink, still on the counter, and plucked it from Killian's side, her fingertips brushing against his skin as she reached across him. She hurriedly looked away, the warmth of their contact creeping up her veins and burning her cheeks.

"If I can get this drink back in the glass without touching the plate," Emma began, regaining her confidence and pouring Belle's drink onto the dish. "I get to ask you whatever I want and you have to answer it." Emma placed the lime in the middle of the plate and reached into her clutch, grabbing a tiny box of matches.

"You carry matches with you?" Killian raised an eyebrow, his smirk causing a low heat to pool in her belly.

"You never know when you'll need them," Emma defended. "Carrying these around has gotten me out of some pretty messed up situations."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" Killian grinned mischievously, leaning toward her.

Emma held up her finger. "No. I said that I get to ask the questions, remember?" She denied him.

"So you'll never give me the pleasure of knowing what interesting predicaments caused you to forever carry a box of matches with you wherever you go?" Killian responded.

Emma shrugged nonchalantly (an expression that sharply contrasted with the acceleration of her heartbeat) and lit the match, not missing his widening grin in her peripheral vision.

"Wait," Killian interrupted, her gaze flicking to his. "What do I get if you lose?"

"I'm not going to lose," Emma stated confidently, shooting him a disbelieving glare.

"Well, if you do –"

"Which I _won't _–"

"You have to tell me your name," Killian finished, a proud smirk playing on his lips.

Emma's fingers tightened slightly around the smooth wood of the burning match, her stomach churning. After a moment she began berating herself. Why was she nervous? She was going to win. Belle had just showed her this trick and it worked perfectly. Killian would still know her as some random blonde girl he happened to run into, not as Emma Swan. Besides, even if he did find out her name _(which he wouldn't) _he still wouldn't know her number or how to reach her. There were probably a ton of Emma Swans in the New York City area alone, it was completely impossible that he would happen to find her and appear in her life. Right? Right. This was just a silly game. Emma was just having fun, just talking to a guy at a bar. It wasn't going to turn into anything serious. She wasn't going to _see _him again. It was nothing. Nothing.

"Fine," Emma agreed, ignoring his triumphant expression and sticking the lit match into the lime.

Emma replayed Belle's actions in her head to make sure she was doing everything correctly, and then placed the glass over the concoction. The drink bubbled and was sucked back into the glass by the flame, the plate untouched.

Emma beamed at Killian cockily.

"That's not magic, that's science!" Killian protested.

"What?" Emma spluttered. "No, I bet that I could get the drink back into the glass without touching the plate and I did!"

"You said that you knew a magic trick, that is not magic," Killian scoffed. Emma scowled furiously.

"It doesn't matter," Emma retorted. "I won," she stated challengingly, crossing her arms and waiting for Killian's response.

Killian eyed her for a moment, looking amused and slightly apprehensive. Finally, he gave in.

"Okay," he sighed. "What do you want to know?"

* * *

Belle and Ruby had left a few hours before Emma once they saw that she was with Killian. With a face-splitting grin and thumbs up from Belle and some inappropriate hip thrusting from Ruby, the two departed and for the first time, Emma was the one not leaving with whom she came with.

In fact, she didn't leave for a quite a while. After two more white wines, a shot of straight vodka (Killian's idea, not hers), and her abdomen sore from laughing, she finally decided to hail a cab home.

"Bloody rude, New Yorkers are," Killian swore, scowling at the seventh cab to speed past him, not paying any attention to his outstretched arm. "Can't they see I'm trying to be a gentleman?" He huffed.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I told you I could get myself a cab," Emma reminded him.

"Yes, but what kind of man would I be if I didn't see you off? I'm not just going to bloody leave you on the street where anything could happen to you. You're a gorgeous woman in a tight dress," Killian replied, arm still stubbornly thrust in the air.

Emma blushed, thankful that he wasn't looking at her to see the redness splattered across her cheeks. True, they both had a good amount of alcohol, but they'd been talking so long that the effects had practically disappeared, both of them sober by now. Emma wrapped stepped off the sidewalk and gently nudged Killian out of the way.

"Move," she murmured, stretching out her own arm. Less than a minute later, a cab pulled right up.

"What?" Killian spluttered angrily, confused. Emma clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. "How –"

"Like you said," Emma replied. "I'm a gorgeous woman in a tight dress."

She smirked proudly as he blinked comically. Killian seemed to regain his composure and stuffed his hands in his pockets, grinning at her.

"Well, get home safe, love," Killian advised. Emma nodded, opening the car door, her sparkling green eyes never leaving his. "I had a splendid time tonight," he said, studying her, as if drinking her in.

Emma swallowed, giving him another small nod and swirled around, her braid falling down her back.

Emma was just about to climb into the car, one hand on the door, the other resting on the top of the car, when all her fingers tightened their hold, her eyes squeezing shut, her whole body constricting, and she made a decision in that split second –

"Emma," she called, her eyelids still screwed shut, her back continuing to face him. She didn't even know if he was even there. Emma took a deep breath and turned her head to find Killian staring at her with confusion.

"My name is Emma," she confessed.

Before she could even see if his expression changed at all, she clambered in to the taxi and recited her address. The driver zipped away from the curb – from Killian – and Emma was left to decide if a weight had been lifted or added to her heart.


End file.
